


The Most Human Color

by cenneidi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AU: Jet kills Zuko, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Character Study, Dark fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fist Fights, Implied/Referenced Stalking, Originally published 2010, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cenneidi/pseuds/cenneidi
Summary: Power in firebending comes from the breath; deny a firebender his air, and you deny him his bending.Originally published on Live Journal in 2010
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	The Most Human Color

**Author's Note:**

> I unearthed this decade old fic on my hard drive recently and thought I might as well post it here, for the sake of completeness if nothing else. I originally wrote it as a senior in high school, and it definitely shows its age; largely in being just unrelentingly dark. I think at the time I'd meant this to be the start of an entire AU following the consequences of Zuko dying, with Jet haunted by visions of Zuko's ghost and it being ambiguous if those visions were real or not. But I never got around to writing any of that, and now I don't much care to. Here it is, presented as-is, for your reading pleasure.
> 
> Please do mind the tags, this really is exactly what it says on the tin. Take care of yourselves, lovelies.

Crouched behind the apartment wall, peering in through the window, his muscles were as tense as spring coils; twisted and cramped. The stone was rough to the touch, harsher than the callouses of his hands, and the wooden roof under his feet creaked with every movement, every breath. He could feel himself shaking, his mouth clamped tightly around a straw he couldn't remember having picked.

Jet could be stupid. So, so stupid and reckless and crazy. But never before had he been as stupid as he was around Li. Everything about the boy set Jet on fire. Ever since they'd met on that ferry, Jet had been falling all over himself for Li. It was ridiculous, it was stupid, it had already hurt him and his friends. Smellerbee had called him on it; _we're worried about you, Jet_. He'd been acting without thinking, like he used to, back in the forest. Smellerbee had called him on that, too. Asked him, _weren't we trying to start over?_

The thing was, Li could have been such a great Freedom Fighter. _It's too late for that_ , Jet had to keep reminding himself—reminding himself of a warm cup of tea when there shouldn't have been, of poorly veiled lies, of all the tiny gives. _They're Fire Nation_ , he would think, and his stomach would burn with the thought. His head would pound with it.

He'd waited and watched in the days since coming to Ba Sing Se, and he was done.

It was time to act. There wasn't going to be enough proof to show anyone, nothing concrete like he would need.

It was in the little things, the kinds of things you only noticed once you knew what you were looking for. Jet had been looking. Watching every move the Firebenders made with a sick fascination. Was this monster the same boy he had asked to join his group? Had he really been fooled by Li's pathetic attempt at deception?

He _had_ been fooled, there was no denying that. He had taken the scar on Li's face and that nervous demeanor as a link between them. They were outcasts, both hurt by the Fire Nation in unimaginable ways. That's what he'd thought.

He would make up for those moments of naïvety. He would pay Long and Bee back the only way he knew how, and they could finally have the new life they deserved.

He had been watching Li for long enough to be able to predict the exact moment that the apartment door would open, to know the expression that Li would wear as he walked in.

He felt a surge of anger at the sight of golden eyes, and he wanted to burst into the apartment then, to fight Li and pry the secret of his blood away from him. He held off, and watched, like he'd planned. Watched as Li stripped off his apron and shoes. Watched as Li pulled out pots and bags of dried food from the cabinets. Watched as Li hit spark rocks together and the stove caught too quickly—and he couldn't take it.

Jet slipped in through the window, quiet and confident. Really, it was hardly even a risk to confront Li. Jet knew what he was doing, he'd planned every move. He was terrified; this was crazy.

The floor of the apartment was sturdier than the roof had been, but it was old, and the warped floorboards made just enough noise that it was impossible not to be heard.

Li turned, in the startled, abrupt way of someone unaccustomed to being caught off-guard. “ _Jet?_ ”

“Hey, Li,” Jet said, and his voice sounded all wrong to his ears, false confidence quavering. Li's eyebrows knit together.

“What are you doing here?” He sounded _scared_ , and Jet nearly laughed out loud at the irony of that. He suppressed the sick feeling in his gut as he stepped closer to Li.

“Do I need a reason?” he retorted. They were just an arm's length apart, close enough for every gesture, every flicker of fear to be apparent to one another. Jet hoped his bluff would hold. “I just wanted to see you.”

Li pressed back into the counter, away from him, looking for an escape. There wasn't one; Jet had made sure there wouldn't be.

“You're lying,” Li said, and Jet couldn't stop a strangled laugh from escaping.

“So are you,” he said, like it was the most natural response in the world. Li didn't look like he thought it was.

“What?”

“So,” Jet said conversationally, stepping into the last of Li's space, “you're a Firebender.”

Li froze, but that wasn't even what gave him away. It was the surprise, and then anger twisting his face that did it. Not confusion. Never confusion. “You're insane!” Li spat, his breath hot and angry on Jet's neck. Too hot, burning, coming out in jagged bursts and hitches. Jet felt the rhythm of his own breathing change to match it. Li tried to push him away, to break free, but his hands flew up and grabbed Li by the wrists. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Liar!” Jet shouted back. There was a hook in his chest, and Li pulled it relentlessly with every hiss. “I saw you!”

“There was nothing to—” He slammed into Li so hard that it knocked the wind out of both of them, shoved Li so hard into the counter that it must have hurt. He pinned Li there, Li's wrists in his grip torqued around and locked in place.

“Yeah, right,” Jet said. He snarled, “Fire Nation,” and “Liar,” and “Monster,” and Li struggled to get away.

“Let go.” Desperation had stolen Li's words, his breath, and he sounded very young, very afraid. It made Jet sick with anger, and before he knew what he was doing his hand crashed against Li's face. The sound it made—and the sting that both of them felt—silenced them. They stared at each other, surprised and confused, for what seemed to be a very long time. Then, Li realized that one of his hands had been freed in the process, and he grabbed Jet's arm, twisted it around. Jet kneed him in the gut, and he doubled over, hand releasing Jet but instantly coming up and punching the side of his mouth.

Black and white exploded behind Jet's eyes, and he tasted blood. He growled.

Somehow, they were on the floor now. Jet's body moving on instinct. Straddling Li, with Li pinned firmly beneath him, and Jet reached up. Wrapped his calloused hands around Li's smooth, pale throat. Li's eyes flared and he thrashed to throw Jet off of him, but Jet leaned in, pressed down hard. “Firebender,” he taunted, _come on,_ _you can stop me if you want to._ Li clawed at his hands and kicked, but that wasn't enough to do anything. _You can stop me._

“Do it,” Jet said, “stop me.” Li's chest convulsed and strained, and he fought to free himself with everything he had; everything except the one thing that Jet wished he would. “Fire Nation,” and “Liar,” and “Monster,” Jet said over and over again, like a mantra, until he was hardly aware of the words passing through his lips. Blood ringed his mouth, and it splattered down onto Li's face with each syllable uttered. Li writhed and bucked and he dug his nails into Jet's scalp.

And then it was over, Li's eyes closing and his body stilling, but Jet held onto him. Pressed his hands into Li's throat like a lifeline. “Fire Nation,” and “Liar,” and “Monster.”

He didn't let go until Li's veins showed through delicate flesh, until his lips were cold and blue, and then he just sat there, and stared. Li, numb and lifeless beneath him.

A strange part of Jet's mind wondered if Mushi would come home, if he would be caught, and a still stranger part of his mind wondered why he had done it at all.

He stayed until his knees ached from sitting on the hard wooden floor and his feet deadened.

He stayed, and stared at Li, at the scar and at the soft, pretty lines of his still face.

He wondered, “was I wrong?” and “why didn't he stop me?” and “he could have been a Freedom Fighter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it~ I don't post writing often, but feel free to look me up on tumblr, also as Cenneidi, or leave a comment here to let me know what you thought!


End file.
